Surrender
by artistic mishap
Summary: Garrus has never been able to say no to her. Companion to "Forfeit"; set between chapters 18 and 19.


_A certain someone expressed an interest in the Shepard/Garrus dynamic in _Forfeit_. Enjoy! _

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_**Surrender **_

Garrus comes home to find her sleeping on the couch. From the awkward way her body is twisted and the disheveled state of her clothing, he knows that she didn't intend to fall asleep there. Without turning on a light, he pads into the room and seats himself on the table next to her, using one of his talons to finger the hair out of her face.

He's always loved watching her sleep. It feels like a secret she's sharing with only him.

How could he ever have doubted _this_? In the beginning, when she'd first made her feelings known, he hadn't known how to respond. This was Shepard, his friend – his _only_ friend – and a human, of all things. And what still caused him to writhe with awkwardness was the thought he'd had at the time, the very first thought: _what will my father say_? But she never pushed or demanded more than he was willing to give, and when he'd finally asked her, _why_ (unsaid being, why a turian, why a bruised and broken man, why a mercenary, _why me_), she just took his hands in her own and said, _because I love you. _And then that smile, Spirits, that smile that _always_ got him, and he was lost.

Truth be told, he isn't entirely certain he deserves her. Hell, he isn't sure anyone deserves her. But he does love her, and when she rushed into his arms at the spaceport, he swore to himself that he would never, ever leave her again.

Which made this all incredibly difficult.

Victus called him in earlier for a meeting. In the space of three hours, the Primarch laid out the complications surrounding Earth's supply of element zero following the defeat of the Reapers, and the plan to go acquire more. All the dextro fleets in the system were going to take off, to find some planets to set up mining operations, and return if they could. That _if_ hung in the air like smoke, and the two men stared at each other.

And even though Garrus knew, he _knew_, he said, "Why are you telling me this, sir?"

"Because I want you to come with us," said Victus. "You're more familiar with this part of the galaxy than the rest of us, and you're one of the highest ranking turians left in the hierarchy. If something should happen to me…" The other man stood, his hands clasped behind his back. "But let me be clear: this isn't an order. If you wish to remain on Earth, then I will not force you to otherwise, but ou should know that there will be very little left in the way of rations for you here, and if something did go wrong… You could be here alone for a very long time."

"Not alone," said Garrus.

The Primarch paused, considering. "No. I suppose not."

The moonlight chases the curve of Shepard's body, and Garrus watches her chest move up and down. Only a few months ago, he was sure he had lost her forever. When Hackett appeared on the comm, telling him that she was dead, Garrus' world splintered and shattered around him. He'd lost his home, he may have lost his family, and then he'd lost Shepard. Shepard, who'd been his one source of comfort throughout it all. For weeks, he'd imagined her body, twisted and decomposing and would find himself waking in the middle of the night, his limbs quivering as they had when she'd shoved him aboard the _Normandy_.

He blamed himself, then. If he'd just been faster, better, he could've finished the job. He could've saved Shepard, the way she'd saved him so many times before.

Shepard stirs, blinking away the sleep. Garrus always finds this adorable. Turians usually snap awake, but humans, well, they wake up bit by bit. She yawns and reaches out a hand to him. He holds it in his own.

"How long have you been home?" she asks.

"Not long."

"And have you been watching me sleep the entire time?"

"Will I sound lovesick and pathetic if I say yes?"

This earns him a smile as she drops a kiss into his hand. "Maybe." She sits up and pulls him onto the couch with her, moulding her body into his. It's not something adult turians do with each other – cuddling, is what Shepard called it – but he's grown to love the physical proximity. He smoothes her hair with one hand. "What did Victus want?"

He tries to keep his tells in check, but he stills for a fraction of a second too long and she turns her blue eyes up at him, frowning. There's a beat where he considers lying, but this is Shepard, and he's never yet been able to do it. Besides, she'd figure it out anyways, and then she'd be angry and he's had _plenty_ of time to see what happens to people who piss Shepard off.

So he tells her everything. What the situation is, where they're going, how the personnel is going to be managed, and… and how Victus wants him to go along, because from the not-subtle hints, Garrus may be next in line for Primarch.

She nods long and when he's done, she asks, "So are you going?"

"I'm not leaving you."

Another nod. Extricating herself from his body, she stands, stretching her arms high above her head so that every one of her vertebrae pop. Then she turns to him, hands on her hips, and she's got her _Commander Fucking Shepard_ expression on her face for the first time in what seems like forever.

"You're going," she announces. "And so am I."

You'd think that after all this time, Shepard's crazy schemes would be second nature to him, but no. He can't stop himself from doing a double take. "Shepard, that's not… That's not possible."

"Of course it is," she says like she's speaking to a child. "The _Normandy_ is almost done getting the last of her repairs. It may be an upgraded Cerberus design, but the essentials are still based partially on turian engineering, meaning that a turian crew should have no trouble getting used to how she works. And if the quarians are coming anyways, I'm sure we could get a few of them on board to help take care of any problems that arise."

"That's all well and good, Shepard," he counters, leaning forward. "But what about food? We don't know how long we'll be gone. What if you run out?"

Shepard turns from him then. "Then we'll work something out."

"Shepard… This is foolhardy, even for you."

"More foolhardy than you staying here to be with me?" she demands, and he has no answer for her. She sighs and it's like all the air drains from her body. "Listen, I'm no good here." She gestures to their apartment. "My father – Admiral Hackett, sorry – has me off duty. I've been trying to help where I can, but I feel useless here. Every time I look out a window, it's like I'm staring my own failure in the face."

Now he stands, rubbing his hands down her arms. "Shepard, you won this war for us."

"I know," she says. "I'm not talking about the war. I'm talking about all those people out there. They expect me to be… Something. Let's face it: I'm far better at jetting around the galaxy than I will ever be at anything else. I'm not home unless I'm aboard a ship – my ship. With you. _Primarch Vakarian_." She pokes him in the stomach.

He's weak. Garrus knows that. He can kill entire platoons of mercs, help take down Reapers, intimidate the hell out of just about anyone, but faced with Shepard and her unstoppable temerity, he will always cave.

"Okay," he says, and Shepard's smile is like a rare bloom that he hasn't seen in far too long. She wraps her arms around his neck and places a kiss on his mandible. "But," he adds, "you have to tell your mother, and I'd prefer it if I were on the other side of the city when you did."

Shepard groans, bumping her forehead against his chest.

Garrus wraps his arms around her, and even if this is the worst decision in the world, some small part of him soars.


End file.
